Pretend
by Miss Hanamura
Summary: "It's a strange dance they share." — Shadow!Rise/Shadow!Yukiko, one-sided Chie/Yukiko. Implied lemon, but nothing graphic.


**A/N: So, this was based on a Skype roleplay between myself, and my friend Adam (I assumed the role of Shadow!Rise~). Since I didn't have much else to do, and I've pretty much given up on all my other stories, I decided to re-write this in a story format. Umm... Don't ask us where this pair came from; it was completely random xD**

* * *

The lights are dim, casting her in its faint glow, softening her already perpetual beauty, her lines and curves, and cracks in between. Her breath hitches in her throat, fingers walk up her arm, and she thinks, _'This is wrong.'_ The girl beside her is close—dangerously so—and she purrs. Fingers descend. It's a strange dance they share.

She licks her lips—she can see moisture glistening off them, can pick up the faintness of whatever gloss she uses—and the princess has the sudden urge to lean forward, and crush them to hers. Become one with her. She wonders what they taste like—probably a mixture of sweet and bitterness, lust and envy—and when she thinks this, the blush on her cheeks becomes steadily redder. She takes notice,"You won't get anyone dressed up like this~" Her golden eyes are haunting, even in this light; her voice is masked with sugared words. She finds herself falling for it as she edges closer, "Why don't I take this off you, and help you into something else?"

She can't feign her anxiety. She can see through her. It's like this girl flashed a radiographic beam on her, and everything is revealed. She is naked, and picked clean by vultures, exposed for all the world to see, "B-But are you sure?" Her voice is small compared to hers; it echoes off the empty walls of the carmine castle, "Under this, I only have on my lacy underwear... Do you have something for me to wear?"

The idol smirks; its fitting, she thinks, as she takes the moment to study her features. Wisps of auburn hair—the smell of apples lingers, reminding her of summer—washed out, yellow eyes, hooded only by long, dark eyelashes, a touch of pink in her lips. She was beautiful—dangerously so, "Of _course_ I do; You can trust me, Yuki-chan~" She wants to believe her. Her voice is so convincing, the sparkle in her eye so inviting. It would be so easy to fall for her, "Now go on, how 'bout a little show?"

But it isn't her, and this isn't right. And as she tears the top half of her dress off, Shadow Yukiko screams, and she feels the castle walls caving in. She covers her chest with her hands if only to reclaim a shred of her dignity, "Rise-chan! I'm a princess, not a stripper! I have an image!"

There's an edge to her voice not present there before (or maybe it had been all along, and she didn't notice), "Oh, please~ You want them to notice you, don't you?" Bony and pale and sweetly _disgusting_ fingers move in between her legs, strokingly lovingly, parting them slowly. Her breath dances in her ear as she continues, "If you keep your goods covered, they never will!" Pressure is applied; fingers clench, tears dot her eyes.

But a part of her _wants_ this, but won't admit to it. Not here, anyway. Not now. Her cheeks are flush, her body tense, anticipating the actor's next move, "D-Don't touch me there! Only my Prince can do that to me!" Chie was her prince. Chie was such a strong, and kind prince. Chie would cup, and caress her cheeks tenderly; her eyes, and fingers would wander over her body, through her hair, her _everything_; her back would arch off the bed at the touch, at her love, merciless and helpless, and Yukiko Amagi would feel truly and utterly _beautiful _for once in her life.

And it would just be them in this world.

Such was a dream that would never come true.

She didn't have the courage.

Shadow Rise laughs, and her thoughts are momentarily shattered. Derailed. She is brought back to reality, reminded of the hand nestled between her legs, lips near her ear, but not quite touching it, "Let's just consider this practice for when he does come, alright~?" Her hand lifts her chin up, and tilts her face. Leans in. Lips brush. Tongues tangle. But it's _all _tongue and sloppy and wet and _gross_. It's nothing like how she pictured her first kiss to be. There's nothing sweet about this. There are no sparks, no butterflies in her stomach. _'This is wrong.'_

They break apart for air, and Shadow Yukiko lets the rest of the dress fall, and spill on the floor. The other flashes a look that could only be described as impression.

Their lips meet again.

A part of her dies.

Another imagines it's Chie above her, touching her, eating her _alive_, and she feels a little better.

Maybe for tonight it was okay to play pretend.

After all, wasn't everyone waiting for a prince that wouldn't come?


End file.
